


Sweet Home Winterfell

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sweet Home Alabama Fusion, F/M, Family Feels, Family Reunions, Reconciliation, Sansa is a bit of a brat to start
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-04-19 00:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14225061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: Returning home after six years, Sansa begins to realise what she wanted wasn't as good as what she already had.Sweet Home Alabama AU.Day 6 of Jonsa Spring Challenge - Song prompt.





	1. Prologue

The chink against the glass made her jump, frowning towards her window. She wrapped her dressing gown tighter around herself and stood, peering out into the darkness of the street.

Her lips curled into a smile despite her best efforts as she pushed the window out and leaned across the window ledge. She folded her arms across the surface as she gave Jon Snow her best unimpressed look.

“It is eleven o clock at night Jon Snow.”

He grinned up at her, his adorable shyness making him shift under her gaze.

“There is a meteor shower tonight,” he replied. “I thought you would want to come and see it.”

“It is eleven o clock at night,” she repeated but the amusement broke through her armour and Jon knew he had her, his shoulders lifting in a cheeky shrug.

She sighed, slipping her window back down and grabbing a vest, t-shirt and jumper to layer on each other. She slipped on a pair of tights, layering it with leggings and then, upon a brief second of thought, her pyjama bottoms. Jon wouldn’t care what she turned up in after all, so long as she was warm.

She still didn’t quite know how he had gone from Robb’s friend to hers. When Robb started dating and later entering a relationship with Jeyne, Jon had been a bit of a lone wolf at school. Sansa had started talking to him in the library, reminding him that he could still visit the Starks whenever he wanted.

And true enough, none of the Starks batted an eyelid when Jon continued to visit, even when Robb wasn’t there. Arya had grown close with him too, Bran would have deep meaningful conversations with him and Rickon would harass him until he practiced football with him.  Yet, it was still Sansa who somehow seemed to be alone with him the most, always Sansa who would have the weirdest and funniest conversations with him or be able to sit in comfortable silence as they watched the television. In short, within months Jon Snow had went from her brother’s awkward mate to her own best friend.

She snuck down the stairs, peering into the living room to make sure the coast was clear. She slipped on her boots before she slipped on her jacket and carefully opened the door, wincing as it creaked a little. She clicked it shut softly behind her before grinning at Jon and hurrying across the lawn to him.

His hand curled around her wrist and the touch made her breath hitch. It took all of her willpower not to look down at where their skin met like some hopeless romantic girl in a movie.

Because as sure as she was of her own feelings towards him, the agonising crush that had caused her to scribble J and S into love hearts and practice writing Sansa Snow signatures, she had never had any reason to think that Jon would see her as anything but a friend, or worse, Robb’s little sister.

They entered the park and Jon pulled them to a stop by the side of the stream. She stared at the blanket on the ground, the little lantern sitting beside it and then back at Jon.

“There!” he said in excitement, pointing up at the sky.

She was grateful that the snow had stopped falling the day before, meaning the skies were clear to watch such a spectacle. Her eyes traced the meteors as they tore across the night and she felt an incredible sense of wonder at it all.

Without thinking, she pulled closer to Jon, her arm brushing his as they looked up in awe. From the corner of her eye, she saw him glance at her but when she looked at him, his gaze shot away. Yet, even in the dark she can see his flushed cheeks before he turned away, kneeling by the blanket.

“I made you this,” he murmured, digging through his pocket. He produced a little figure, a wolf-shape she noted. She outstretched her hand as he held it out towards her.

“Weirwood?” she asked as she turned the item in her hand, noting the white colouring. Jon nodded and Sansa grinned. “You have a talent Jon.”

He shrugged, moving to sit on the blanket. He leaned back on his hands as he looked up at the sky once more. Sansa carefully pocketed the wolf and shuffled beside him. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold run through her as he threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

“I think I’d like to get married here,” he mumbled suddenly, glancing around. “Or, somewhere like this. With flowers and a river or something.”

“That would be nice,” she agreed, trying not to think of who Jon would think of marrying. He turned to her then, his smile bright in the dark.

“I’m glad you approve because it would be your wedding too.”

“What?” she blurted, staring dumbly at him. “What would you want to marry me for?”

Jon grinned, leaning closer to her, his breath mingling with hers and she closed her eyes in anticipation as his lips barely touched her own as he muttered his reply.

“So, I can kiss you anytime I want.”


	2. Chapter 2

Winterfell was exactly as she remembered it and it made her want to immediately turn around and drive back south. Back south to the pretty city of King’s Landing with the sun and the parties and the chance to be a fashion designer because they actually appreciated pretty things down there.

She sighed, switching the ignition off and slumping back in her seat as she stared blankly at the house she had grown up in.

The treehouse that Robb and Arya had built was still there in the backyard. Bran had been using it for a hideout the last time she had been here six years ago. She grimaced as she realised he would be eighteen now. Even Rickon would be a teenager now. And she had no idea how she would speak to either of them.

Robb’s car was parked beside her father’s pick-up truck and Sansa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Because that meant he was likely here with Jeyne who, while perfectly nice, was hardly a decent match for Robb. Jeyne was a small-town girl with simple aspirations and while, in Sansa’s opinion, she had been fine for a first teenage love, Sansa felt that marrying Jeyne had made Robb stay in this dreary old place rather than go out in the world. Robb had potential, like she did, but he was wasting it on a pretty girl. Or at least Sansa thought so.

Arya had always belonged here at least. Her sister never had much grace and was likely to be found playing in the muddy fields of the farmlands surrounding Winterfell with questionable boys. Sansa was glad that her sister’s car didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight, signalling she was not visiting the family this weekend. The last time Sansa had seen her, they had fallen out quite badly.

Sighing loudly at the thought of spending a night back in this place, she grabbed her bag and stepped out of the car and onto the chipped pathway leading to the Stark’s front door.

She did love her family, she really did. She just didn’t understand why they all loved Winterfell so much. It was more of a big town than a city, underfunded and left to decay. It wasn’t pretty like Highgarden or cultural like King’s Landing. It certainly didn’t have the weather going for it either. In short, Sansa had never felt that Winterfell had anything that she wanted.

Feeling that a six year absence forfeited the right to just walk in like she used to do, she gently rapped her knuckles against the white wooden door. Within moments, she heard her father’s muffled voice on the other side before he opened the door.

He blinked a couple of times and Sansa gave a small shrug in greeting before his face broke into a grin. Sansa then found herself flat against Ned Stark’s chest as he held her flush against him, his hand cradling her head to his chest.

“Oh Sansa, sweetling! It is so good to see you sweetheart!” he murmured in her hair, pushing her back by the shoulders in order to look at her better.

“Who was it love?” her mother called from the kitchen before she appeared in the doorway to look.

The glass she was holding fell to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces as she yelped at the sight of her daughter. Robb appeared next to Catelyn, ready to kneel and help pick up the broken glass but he froze at the sight of her too.

“So,” Sansa said with fake cheer, holding up her overnight bag. “Surprise!”

“Sansa, darling!” Catelyn cried, hurrying down the hall and pulling her into a tight hug that could compete with Ned’s. “How long are you staying? Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”

“It is a flying visit,” Sansa insisted as she finally managed to close the door behind her. “I just need to sort some things out and head back down south.”

“Oh, that is a shame that you can’t stay any longer,” Catelyn replied as she led her back through to the kitchen where Robb had finally started sweeping up the glass.

“Well, she couldn’t come down for the wedding so, it isn’t that much of a surprise,” he commented, barely looking at her as he crossed the floor to toss the shards in the bin.

“I couldn’t take the time off during the busiest week of the fashion year,” she retorted, folding her arms defensively. “You gave me barely any notice at just two months.”

“Last I checked, weddings and funerals are holidays that your employer should grant you so maybe you should be reporting the magazine. Of course, that is, if you were actually going to bother coming and the busy time of year wasn’t just a convenient excuse for you.”

“Alright, stop it you two,” Ned sighed, rubbing his temple as he made his way to sit at the table and finish his cup of coffee.

“Would you like some tea dear?” Catelyn asked, already heading to the sink to fill the kettle.

“No thank you,” Sansa replied. “I’m just going to dump my things and get on with what I need to do.”

“Anything you want for dinner?” her mother called as Sansa headed upstairs.

“I’ll sort myself out Mum,” she shouted back, sighing loudly as she reached the top of the stairs.

She had grown unused to a busy household and already could feel a headache coming on. Shaking her head at the thought of being back home she entered the room to dump her bag. Tossing the item on her bed, she glanced around the room slowly. She hadn’t been in this room since she was sixteen, she thought. Still, the photos of her and her family made her pause and she reached out to pick up one of all the Starks when they had gathered for Catelyn’s fortieth.

Jon had his arm around her shoulder and the sad smile pulled at the corner of her lips. It seemed like so long ago now, so long since she had been that girl who got married at sixteen.

And now, she thought of Willas, the red roses he had trailed across their apartment until she had come across him on their bed with "Will you marry me?" written with petals across the covers. She was going to say yes anyway she assured him, even before he promised he would take her to Tiffany's to choose her own ring.

She sighed, putting the photo back down on the desk and grabbed her handbag before heading out of the door. Her family were still in the kitchen as she called her farewells and stepped back onto the street. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she made her way across the street and walked through the park briskly.

Unfortunately, not briskly enough as she was stopped first by Jeyne Poole who had near enough fainted at the sight of her. And Theon being with her had for once been speechless, merely blinking repeatedly at her and his jaw hanging open in an almost cartoonish manner.

And then she had bumped into Tormund, who had practically shouted out his surprise for the entire town to hear. She had managed to pry herself away from him as he continued to try to grab her and get her to converse more.

“I have to see Jon,” she stated simply after five more minutes of Tormund mentioning something about a new build being built on the edge of the town. He had stopped mid-sentence, his eyes lighting up.

“Yeah?” he commented brightly, grinning at her. “Good, good. I’ll let you go then!”

She murmured her goodbyes and tucked her hair into her coat, pushing a hat on top of her head. She didn’t want to talk to anyone else, she thought grumpily as she continued out of the park and turned down the road to where the little cottage sat on the edge of the caravan park.

A dog started barking on the other side of the door as she climbed the steps and rapped her knuckles on the door. Waiting a few minutes, there was no response and no sound on the other side so she knocked again.

“Can I help you?”

She pressed her eyes shut, annoyed at how she still reacted to that deep voice. Her heart pounding, she whirled around with a glare. His eyes widened, his curls shaking with the force of his surprised step back.

“Well Jon. For starters, you can get your ass up here and give me a divorce!”


	3. Reunions

Jon stared at her for what felt like an eternity before he gave a harsh bark of unamused laughter. She frowned at him as he started walking towards her, his own eyes narrowed in anger.

“Oh, hey baby,” he drawled, taking the steps slowly towards her even as his gaze never broke away from her face. “You’re looking good. What’s been going on these past six years?” He stopped in front of her, his hand reaching out to press against the door frame, his other waved between them. “That would have been a nicer way to greet me.”

She huffed, folding her arms in annoyance. Her eyes rolled automatically, causing him to smirk and her frown to deepen. He had always teased her about her eye-rolling, the way she came across so haughty and cold had amused him to no end when they had been young. She hated how he probably thought that true now. She certainly felt colder and haughtier than she had at sixteen.

“I have asked you before,” she hissed eyes flitting to the door as the barking seemed to increase. “The joke is over.”

“Oh, you’re right about that,” he growled. The barking was replaced by howling now and Jon hit the door and yelled. “Shut up Ghost!”

Sansa’s eyes widened as she glanced at the door. “Ghost?” she blurted, turning her frown to him. “What happened to Lady?”

Jon’s lips pressed together as he pushed away from the door. He glanced down at his hands with a sad smile.

“She died,” he murmured before he looked up at her, his eyes hard once more. “You weren’t here.”

“And you didn’t think I should know?” she snapped.

Jon shrugged, turning away from her to finally unlock the door. When he went to go inside, she pushed her hand out to stop him slamming it in her face. He huffed, throwing his hand up in frustrated surrender as she stepped inside.

Ghost, a white husky, bounded straight towards her, sniffing at her eagerly as his tail wagged. Jon glared at the dog as he opened the fridge harshly.

“Oi you big brute,” he called. “We don’t like her!”

Ghost huffed, nudging his nose against Sansa’s hand before he turned and padded to Jon’s side.

“How could you not tell me that Lady died?”

“She was my dog,” he replied as he popped open the beer can,

“Maybe on paper,” she retorted.

Lady had been the sweetest thing. And it was true, Jon had had her for a long time before she married him. But Sansa liked to think Lady had become her dog in a way too. She had followed Sansa around the house constantly, had snuggled into her side of the bed when the winter hit and it had been a blessing to have her body heat.

“Yeah, well, she was looking for you for months after you left,” he said with a shrug.

“Is it ever possible for us not to argue?” she asked with a sigh before she reached into her bag and tossed the papers on the table. “Come on Jon. We both know it is time to move on.”

“Well, I suppose some folk do wait until they are divorced before shacking up with a new beau,” he said, eyes boring into hers.

Sansa flushed, averting her eyes. “How did you know?”

“I’m not as much of a fool as people seem to think I am,” he huffed. He glanced at the papers on the table and for a moment, Sansa thought he was going to toss them in the bin. Instead, he sighed and sat down, pulling them towards him.

She bit her lip as she watched him read the first page, his brow creasing together. Feeling that he would rather be alone, she turned and stepped into the living room, her gaze sweeping across the familiar paintings she had made all those years ago. She remembered sitting out on the porch in the summer and painting Lady as she napped on the grass or painting the sunset or the mountains in the distance. She had forgotten how beautiful the scenery could really be in the North. It was rugged and the weather didn’t help sell it but as she looked at her paintings, she could see the North had its own kind of beauty.

She was surprised that Jon would keep them. And, for that matter, the same furniture as well. Her eyes roamed across everything, memories stirring in her mind of them snuggling on that sofa as they watched a movie. Sometimes, she thought with a flush, there was more than snuggling going on. She turned away quickly before she could remember just how soft Jon’s lips were and the way his beard always scratched her skin in the most delicious way.

And then she saw it. The weirwood wolf he had made for her all those years ago, sitting on the mantlepiece above the fireplace. She reached out to take it, her thumb running across the smoothness of the head as she felt a sad smile come to her lips.

“You kept everything,” she said softly, placing the wolf back and turning to look back into the kitchen. Jon was watching her, the divorce papers still on the table. He shrugged but said nothing. “Jon, I…I’m sorry things didn’t work out between us.”

“Nobody finds love when they’re twelve,” he replied quickly, staring stubbornly down at the papers once more.

“I did love you,” she whispered.

A part of her still did, she knew. But she also knew that they wouldn’t have made it really. He was rooted in the North, he would never leave. But she couldn’t give up on such a good career when it had only just begun.

“Well then, I guess love doesn’t conquer all like your fairy tales said it did,” he commented, still not looking up.

She turned again, not wanting to argue yet again. He had given up too, she told herself. It hadn’t just been her that knew their relationship had been suffering. The only difference was that he was being stubborn, refusing to let her go for no good reason other than to mess with her.

And so, she shouldn’t have been surprised when he suddenly stood, the papers swept across the table as he dramatically looked at the clock above the fridge.

“Aw shoot, I really got to go sweetheart,” he grinned, pulling his shirt off and tossing it across the chair. Sansa quickly averted her eyes and gave an annoyed tut at his behaviour. And at the fact she hadn’t looked away long enough to not notice his abs looked as good as they always had.

“Jon, stop being an ass!” she sighed, staring stubbornly at the wall as he moved through to the living room and grabbed a clean shirt.

“I can’t even pronounce half of those words,” he replied as he picked up his glasses. “I’ll get Sam to look over them. You know, in case you’re going to clean me out.”

“Really?” she laughed mockingly. “Me cleaning you out?”

He shrugged as he grabbed his car keys and whistled for Ghost to come to his side. The dog gave Sansa a quick lick on the hand before circling Jon’s legs excitedly as Jon held the door open.

“Maybe phone next time?” he suggested with a sarcastic smile as he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Sansa huffed, shooting an angry look around the room but realising defeat, she stormed out of the door. She paused at the bottom of the steps and whirled around to face him again. Her anger was bubbling up but she managed to take a deep breath to calm herself before she spoke.

“Jon, please,” she said, looking up into his face. “Please sign the papers.”

“I’ll get Sam to look them over,” he repeated, ducking down to attach Ghost’s collar and thus, making his face hidden to her.

She sighed again and nodded to herself as she came to the conclusion that she was not going to get anywhere this day.

Making her way home, she was glad she didn’t run into anyone else. She really didn’t think she could cope with the drama. And then she realised, with a surge of annoyance that she hadn’t packed for more than two days. She had really hoped to get this done and she could then go back to Kings Landing for her big photoshoot and then marry Willas in Highgarden.

Arya’s car was in the driveway as she approached and Sansa groaned. She was not ready to deal with another fallout with her sister. Arya had always liked Jon, as had her entire family actually. And none of them had taken the news of her leaving for the south very well.

Slowly opening the front door to avoid the creaking which would alert the family that she was home, she carefully stepped over the threshold and closed it gently behind her.

She had just reached the top of the stairs when Jeyne emerged from Robb’s room. She started slightly at seeing Sansa but quickly recovered.

“Oh, hi Sansa!” Jeyne greeted her brightly. Sansa’s eyes widened at the very noticeable bump that her sister in law had.

“You’re pregnant!” she blurted, blinking at Jeyne’s swollen stomach.

“Didn’t Robb tell you?” Jeyne responded, biting her lip nervously. “I’m just weeks away from my due date.”

“Oh,” Sansa stated dumbly unable to think of anything else to say. “No, uh, he didn’t…but we haven’t really been in touch much.”

Jeyne made a little hum, whether in mere acknowledgement of what Sansa said or genuine agreement, Sansa didn’t know. But then her sister in law had smiled kindly and grasped her shoulder as she passed.

“I better head down and get the errands done,” she said warmly as she headed down the stairs. Sansa turned to watch her leave, her teeth chewing her bottom lip as she felt the shame churning in her gut.

She really needed a drink, she thought.

***

She should have known she couldn’t avoid Arya forever.

Of course, she would be at The Wall bar with Jon and Robb. The place had always been their meet-up point and Sansa would come along then too. When she had been young and not worried about pretty clothes and a place that had a bit of history as opposed to the ridiculously stylish places she now frequented down south.

Her sister stared at her for a beat before she crossed the floor and, to Sansa’s surprise, wrapped her arms around her and squeezed her tight.

“Do they not have phones down there?” her sister asked as she pulled back and frowned up at her.

“I’ve been busy,” Sansa replied slowly and then her eyes caught the sight of something catching the light. She grabbed Arya’s hand and stared at the silver ring on her left ring finger. “You’re…engaged? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone!”

“Well, if you picked up the phone once in a while, maybe you would have known what was going on.”

“You could have text!”

“You never did.”

“Alright, alright, break it up ladies!” Theon commented, dramatically stepping between the two of them. He grinned at Sansa right before he shot Arya a wink. Sansa’s eyes widened and she turned to run before Theon grasped her wrist. “Sansa needs to do a little re-integration to the neighbourhood challenge. Sansa sandwich everyone!”

“No!” Sansa cried as Tormund came up behind her and tried to push her against Theon as he pushed forward. “This dress is worth more than what you earn in a fortnight!”

Theon paused, blinking owlishly at her before he snorted. “Why would you wear that in a place like this?”

She shoved at his chest hard enough to send him stumbling backwards. “Because some of know how important appearances are.”

“And some of us know how important family is,” Jon countered from where he was bent over the pool table, taking his shot.

“Six years,” Robb said. “You haven’t been home in six years!”

“So, I went and made something of myself!” Sansa hissed. “Nothing stopped you guys from doing the same!”

“And its great how successful you are, really!” Robb replied, moving to take his own shot. “I just don’t see why it stopped you from keeping in contact with your family.”

“I couldn’t stay here,” Sansa sighed, avoiding Jon’s eyes. But she knew if she looked at him, he would be looking at the floor in his usual broody silence.

“Here Sansa,” Lyanna called, pushing a pina colada cocktail across the bar towards her. Sansa bit her lip and avoiding looking into her mother-in-law’s (ex, ex mother in law Sansa!) eyes as she took the drink.

An hour and four cocktails later, she was totally pissed and not having the best judgement as she kept batting Jon’s cue to annoy him.

“And then there was prom night!” Theon sniggered. “That was ace! Sansa, you remember that night? When we all went to the lake after and went skinny-dipping?”

“How could I forget?” Sansa replied. “That was the night Jon got me pregnant.”


End file.
